


The Sun's Love

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack takes steps to move forward in his relationship with Daniel as he struggles to leave part of his past behind.





	The Sun's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: Warnings: Two hankie alert, intense grief and hurt/comfort, adult language.  


* * *

Part One

Jack shut the water off in the shower, groping for his towel so he could rub his hair dry and get his eyes open. He'd spent the morning mowing his lawn and then had started in painting the railings on the deck. Now he was tired. It was only noon, but he had stayed busy every minute since he'd gotten up at 0700, working hard at pushing away his thoughts and feelings, bottling everything up in a place so squashed down inside himself he hoped none of it would ever see the light of day.

As he left the bathroom, his towel wrapped around his waist, he concentrated again on simply doing the next thing. After that, he'd concentrate on the second next thing. And then the third. It had worked for him all day, and he fervently hoped it would work for a little while longer. 

He pulled the covers up on the bed, arranging the blankets and pillows, fussing with the edges of the quilt, lining things up with a military precision. He picked up the clothes he and Daniel had left strewn around the night before and this morning, shoving things in the laundry basket, folding Daniel's sweatshirt to put in the closet. With a last look around, he got out some clothes and started to dress.

As he pulled a clean tee shirt over his head, he went to the window and looked out into the back yard. Daniel was still at it. On his hands and knees, back turned to the house, he was digging around his prize rose bushes as if he hoped to find buried treasure. Jack smiled to himself. Daniel loved his roses. They were difficult, he said. He loved Jack, too. Same reason. 

Jack couldn't figure out where the rose interest had come from. When SG-1 had found Daniel and brought him back to earth, descended and fully human again, their relationship had picked up where it had left off the year before. He and Daniel were the same people they had been before Daniel's ascension, just a little wiser, a little happier, and a lot more aware of the fragility of life. And then there was the fact that Daniel had decided he loved roses and wanted to grow his own, thank you very much, in Jack's backyard.

Jack had watched him prepare the soil. Then he had planted the bushes, carefully pruning them when it was time, watching for bugs and spraying them, feeding the plants and watering them. Daniel had even found a neighbor who was willing to check in on the roses when he had to be off-world. Jack had never heard of a rose-sitter before, but now Daniel had one for his little darlings.

Jack picked up his shoes and socks and decided to go outside to say good-bye to Daniel.

Part Two

Jack walked outside in his bare feet, crossing his deck and going across the lawn directly to where Daniel was working. He'd been a beast to live with for days, and Daniel had been a saint about it. No surprise there. Jack had been acting like a grizzly bear with a thorn stuck in its paw, growling and snapping at Daniel, swiping at him with his claws, and Daniel's response had been love, acceptance, and compassion. Daniel took care of Jack like he took care of his roses, with infinite patience, wisdom and flawless timing. 

"Hey, Daniel," he called out as he came up behind him. He quickly sat down cross-legged next to Daniel on the grass. Daniel sat back on his heels and looked Jack over. Jack could see him wondering which Jack he was going to be dealing with now. Poor guy. Life with O'Neill. Not exactly a sit-com from the 50's. 

Jack looked Daniel over too. He was sweaty and grubby from working in his garden. He had a smear of dirt on one cheek. He hadn't shaved yet that day, and a fine reddish beard dusted his face. Dressed in old cut off jeans and a black tee shirt with the arms ripped out, his long arms were tanned from hours in the sun. He had a dark blue bandana tied around his head, absorbing his sweat and keeping his hair back. Jack watched him take one grubby finger and push his glasses up on his nose. They exchanged a little smile.

"Sit with me a minute, Danny." Jack patted the grass next to him with one hand.

Daniel moved his long legs around so he could sit like Jack. He sat and played with the gardening shears in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, ended up crinkling up his forehead and waggling his eyebrows around a little. Jack could see him trying to decide what to say.

Jack leaned forward and wiped at the smudge on Daniel's face. Quickly, Daniel put a hand up to help him, and managed to get himself even dirtier. Jack smiled at him again.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I've been growling and snarling at you for days. And you've been so wonderful about it." He put a hand on Daniel's warm arm and rubbed it back and forth a little. Daniel reached over and covered Jack's hand with his own.

"I know how hard this week is for you every year, Jack. I don't take it personally. I miss you, though. Will you be okay?"

Jack didn't answer. He suddenly took a lot of interest in one of Daniel's rose bushes, like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Would he be okay? No. Well, yes. Maybe. Probably. Gah. He swallowed and then looked back at Daniel, leaving his hand on Daniel's arm. He gave him a little squeeze.

"Hard week, Danny, you know that. It's not an excuse to treat you like shit, though. I really do apologize. I love you." He took his hand away and fussed with the laces on his Nike's. 

"Love you too. Good times or bad. I just wish I could help."

"You do. You'll never know." Jack stuck his feet out and started pulling on his socks. 

"You off to the cemetery now?" Daniel asked in a quiet voice. 

"Yeah." Jack finished pulling on his shoes and tied them up. No sense delaying the inevitable.

"Sure you don't want me to go with?" Daniel asked gently. Jack could see the concern in his eyes, in the cock of his head. 

Jack neatly changed the subject, again turning his eyes to Daniel's bushes. "Your roses are beautiful, Daniel. You've done a great job." He paused. He had learned from Daniel that each different kind had a name. "What is this one called?" he asked, reaching over to cup a large white rose with a yellowish/pinkish edge to every petal. It was a beautiful flower. 

"Peace, Jack. It's called Peace."

Jack felt a sudden lump in his throat. He let the flower fall from his hand. "Oh."

Daniel moved so quickly, Jack didn't see him coming. In one fluid movement, Daniel was kneeling over him, his hands in his hair, pulling his head onto his shoulder. His arms went around Daniel's waist. He could feel Daniel's lips in his hair. Jack could smell the fresh sweat on him, the pungency of flowers and soil, and even the soap that Daniel had showered with that morning. 

Jack lifted up his face, and he let his eyes rove over Daniel's beautiful features. His eyes were so blue in the sunlight, his love shining straight into Jack's soul. 

"I'll be okay, Daniel. Don't worry." His voice broke a little, belying his light tone. He patted Daniel's back as he spoke, more to reassure himself. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. I have to do this every year. You remember, don't you?"

He saw Daniel nod. Daniel didn't like it, though. Never had and never would. His place was with Jack. But Jack was a private man, and needed to do this alone. And so Daniel respected his wishes. Daniel gently placed a kiss on his mouth and slowly released his arms from around him, sitting back on his heels. He turned to his roses. He picked up the shears and cut three long stems of the Peace rose. He handed them to Jack.

"For Charlie's grave, Jack. One for him, one for you and one for me. I never knew him, but I know his Dad, so I know how special he was. Is."

Part Three

The cemetery where he and Sara had buried Charlie was a beautiful place. Now, in June, high summer in the foothills of the Rockies, the grass was green and everything looked shiny and new, glowing in the sun. 

Jack went there only once a year, during the anniversary week of Charlie's birthday and death. Charlie had been born on June 8. And he'd died on that June 10, two days after his tenth birthday, eight long years ago. Jack and Sara had given him a big party for his tenth, reminding him that he was now "double digit" and getting so grown up. Charlie's friends had gathered around for games and cake and ice cream. They'd had an impromptu softball game in the back yard. 

Charlie's little arms had gone around Jack's neck that night, as Jack tucked him into bed. "Thanks, Daddy, I had fun today." And two days later, he was gone, torn from their lives in a senseless accident that Jack still felt guilty about. Two days of double digit. Jack would never forget that week, if he lived to be a hundred. And he was starting to wonder if he would ever forgive himself.

For eight years Jack had been in mourning for his son, as well as for the loss of his wife and his marriage. He was starting to believe that he would never fully recover. He was also starting to allow himself to feel some of the emotions he had bottled up for so long. That realization scared Jack to his core, even as he felt relieved to be able to pull some things out of the inside of himself and examine them. 

What he couldn't do very well was talk about any of it. His desperation to communicate the depth of his despair to Daniel had come out only in snappish remarks and a withdrawal of affection. He'd hurt Daniel, and he knew it. But the man he loved, who was his life partner and even more, his very life itself, was the most giving person he'd ever met. Daniel didn't get angry, didn't answer him back the way he could have, and only stood and loved him and waited. 

Jack was dealing with all of that too, as he drove into the cemetery. When was he ever going to feel like he wasn't a fuck-up? Daniel believed in him, wanted the best for him, and thought he'd hung the moon, even with all his flaws. Jack was grateful for his love, amazed at his patience, and determined to do better. He felt like that was all he could do.

The cemetery was quiet, as usual. Not another car or person in sight. Situated on a rolling hillside, with the towering Rocky Mountains in the near distance, it was a place for reflection, for meditation, for dealing with a new reality without one's loved one. Jack always thought it felt like an outdoor church in a way. Holy ground, set apart for a special purpose. Jack only came once a year because it was all he could ever bear to do. To come more often would be to pick at a scab that grew thicker and more determined every year. The scab was old, but somehow sore and raw too. Jack wondered if it would ever truly heal.

He parked the truck under the shade of a huge maple tree, deep inside the cemetery. He rolled the front windows down so he could smell the fresh air. He could hear the breeze rustling the leaves of the tree. Far away, some kind of bird was chirping its little song. Jack picked up the roses that Daniel had given him and shoved them up under his nose. A faint fragrance wafted into his brain. They were called Peace, Daniel had said. The lump was back in Jack's throat

God, he needed peace. *Please, God. Are you there? Do you have my Charlie? Is he okay with you? Is he okay? Because I'm not, God. I'm not okay, and I don't think Sara is either. Please. Please. Help me.*

A couple of minutes went by while Jack thought of Charlie. He very rarely allowed himself to go to Charlie in that way. It was usually too painful, but on this particular day every year, Jack came as close to the flame of his loss as he dared, reaching out to touch the fire and afraid of it all at the same time.

He closed his eyes, allowing the flowers to rest in his lap. He concentrated on breathing in and out. He could do this, he really could. He'd done it seven times before, including last year without Daniel, when he had knelt at the grave with Daniel's loss heavy in his heart. God, it had been the hardest visit ever. He at least had Daniel back this time. If he could let him, Daniel would help him feel better later. But for now, he had to do this.

Part Four

Jack sat in the truck for almost a half hour, listening to the quiet. He sat with his eyes closed most of the time, resting and coming the closest to meditation that he ever had. He was not normally a meditative person, much preferring quick decision-making and action to any kind of contemplation. But somehow he knew he needed this. So he allowed himself to be still.

At long last, he gathered up the roses and slid out of the truck. Charlie's grave was over to the left, as he remembered, about ten lots over from the little cemetery lane where he had parked. He started to hike across the grass, his eyes idly looking at the names on some of the other gravestones. They were unfamiliar to him, since he came there so rarely. As he drew closer to Charlie's plot, he slowed down, his eyes searching ahead for his own name. And then there it was.

Sara had picked out the headstone. Jack hadn't been able to go with her to the stonecutter. Charlie had already been buried for two weeks, and Jack wasn't dealing well with anything anywhere, at home, at work, or inside his own heart. He had felt cold, like he was dead himself. He didn't give a shit what she picked out, he'd told her. He'd shocked her with his vehemence, with the uncaring tone of his words. She'd been angry. So, so angry. He didn't give a shit, what the fuck did it matter, just leave him alone, Charlie was gone, fuck it all anyway. Jack had stomped out of the room like a two year old, ashamed of himself and feeling like someone had turned a blowtorch onto his throat and chest. Fuck it all. Fuck it all to hell.

And he'd never cried. Not once. Not at the accident scene, not in the ambulance, not in the hospital, not with Sara, not at the funeral, not in Charlie's room, not at the cemetery, not with Daniel, not when he was alone. Never. Not fucking once. He was only angry and hurting and swallowing everything, and had been for eight long years.

CHARLES TYLER O'NEILL JUNE 8, 1985 JUNE 10, 1995 BELOVED SON OF JACK AND SARA ALWAYS LOVED NEVER FORGOTTEN 

The one thing that had changed there was the roses. There were three rose bushes planted at the grave. Short little fat bushes, bristling with small pink blooms and shiny full green leaves. A bright splotch of color and life, showing that someone had cared enough about Charlie to put them there and to leave them for whoever came by to see.

Jack dropped to his knees. He clutched the Peace roses, his eyes roving over these new additions. He knew there was only one person who could have put them there. The lump was back in his throat again.

He was a fuck up. He knew it, and had known it for ages. He'd lost Charlie. He'd lost Sara. He'd lost eight years of his life, feeling less than. At first he'd tried psychologists, he'd tried pills, he'd tried booze, he'd tried sex, he'd tried going on the most dangerous missions he could find for the Air Force, he'd tried every goddamned thing he could think of. And he was still a fuck up. Except Daniel didn't think so, and never had. From the first moment he met Daniel, Jack had been blown away by him. Looks, brains, commitment, caring, feistiness, mouthiness, and then later love and lust. *I love you, Jack. I will always love you, Jack. Forever. Don't apologize to me, Jack, it's okay. No, Jack, I love you.* 

Jack hung his head, his chin touching his chest. Daniel. Charlie. Sara. God. 

He could feel Charlie. He could see him in his mind's eye. Happy. Laughing. Dark brown eyes like his. Blond hair. Coltish in pre- adolescence, all long arms and legs. Busy. Smart. Perfect. Charlie. *My boy, my love, my life.* Gone. Gone.

Jack could see him, too. Charlie. Buried five feet below where Jack knelt. Encased in a cement crypt, in a white coffin, absurdly small. Lined in pale blue silk. Those same brown eyes closed in rest. Sara had buried him in his baseball uniform. She had tucked photos of them together under Charlie's little hands over his chest. Near his heart, she said. She'd put his baseball mitt in there too, along with a brand new ball. And a tiny Lego car that Charlie had built with the new set they'd given him two days before. The last toy he'd touched, as far as they knew. Charlie. Charlie. Charlie. 

*Are you cold, sweetie? Are you...are you...Where? Here, with me? Always. Always. Always.*

Jack sat on the grass, slumped over, eyes closed. Many minutes went by while he played with the fire of his grief and guilt, letting it burn him a little so maybe he could finally feel something. Feeling the pain was suddenly somehow better than feeling the abyss of nothingness in his soul.

*Forgive me, Charlie. I ask you this every year. I know that, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I miss you so much.*

He opened his eyes. He remembered the roses in his hand. Reaching out, he placed them on top of the headstone. Their lush beauty took his breath away, just as Daniel's own beauty did. For such a person as Daniel to have grown something so precious was somehow right and fitting. Jack patted their stems a little, making sure they were secure, and then looked down at the little bushes again. Daniel. His present and his future. Charlie and Sara were his past. Gone from him, but not forgotten. Jack knew they never would be. 

Let him go, the psychologists had told him. Release him. When you do that, you will release yourself.

Jack gritted his teeth together. Decided to say the words, even though he never had before and never believed it would make an ounce of difference.

"I release you, Charlie. Go now. Leave me. It's okay for you to go. I will never forget you, Son. But I can't hold onto you anymore. Daniel taught me that, that there's something more for us when we cross over. I don't know where you are, Daniel never saw you, so I guess there's more than one place someone can go to. I don't know. But I can't keep you here anymore, Charlie. It's hurting both of us. And it's hurting Daniel." He stopped and took a couple of breaths.

"You would have loved Daniel. I love him, but I know you know that. Your Mom and I, we screwed up. We were hurting so bad. We loved you so much, but after what happened...well, it almost killed us too. I know you know that too. Forgive us, Charlie. We just couldn't do it anymore. And now I have Daniel. Look, honey, he brought you these roses. He loves us both. And we love you, too. Go now. Leave me. It's okay. I will never forget you. But go now."

Jack looked at the headstone expectantly, almost wanting to hear Charlie's little boy voice saying he understood. Instead, he heard the quiet. He sighed, a big heave of relief. Was this relief? Whatever, he was glad this was over for another year. 

Part Five

Jack drove very slowly back to his house. Whatever the speed limit was, he was lucky to get up to five miles an hour below it. He drove on automatic pilot, his thoughts about a light year away from the streets beyond his windshield. He turned and braked and signaled and did everything right, but in slow mo. When he turned into his own driveway, he shut the truck off, took his keys out of the ignition, and let his hands fall into his lap. What was different this year? 

Not Daniel. Daniel and he had been in love for years. Their commitment had never lessened, and in fact had deepened since Daniel had come back to him. When he held Daniel now, he was aware of him in a new way that he never had felt before. He was transported during their lovemaking, and always had been, but now it was like touching a precious ancient work of art when Jack's hands roved over Daniel's skin. A fine painting, a priceless objet d'art, one of Daniel's own artifacts. Jack thought Daniel was a miracle. Always had, but now the miracle had been ratcheted up a notch or two. Were there degrees of the miraculous? Jack thought so.

Jack slid out of the truck and went into the house, closing the door behind himself. It was cool in there. Daniel had put on the air conditioning. 

"Daniel?" he called out. "Daniel?" 

He found him out on the deck. Daniel had shaved and showered. There was a Pepsi can on the table next to him, the remains of a half eaten sandwich on a plate. Daniel's book was open, resting on his chest. He was sleeping in the shade of the house, eyes closed behind his glasses. Jack closed the door to the house gently and went to sit in the chaise lounge next to Daniel's. He watched him sleep. Dressed in a clean white tee shirt and some comfy khaki shorts, bare feet crossed at the ankles, Daniel was the picture of relaxation.

This was their home. Jack's house had become their center. Jack was grateful, always, for Daniel's companionship and love. But now for the first time he understood his wisdom. Jack had always been aware of the intelligence, but wise? That's what Daniel was. The man he loved had secretly gone to plant rose bushes on the grave of a little boy he'd never known just because he loved the boy's dad. Jack had never allowed him to go to the grave with him, but Daniel cared so much for both of them, he had given Jack that gift. 

Jack rested his head back and slowly allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Peace. Yes. 

Part Six

When Jack woke up, he looked at his watch, feeling a little at odds. It was 1600. He looked around at the deck and the yard. Daniel was gone. Jack yawned, and rubbed at his forehead and eyes. His stomach rumbled in hunger. He hadn't eaten much all day. He sniffed. Something smelled good. Something Italian, maybe? Lasagna? 

Jack smiled to himself, anxious to see Daniel. He entered the house and followed his nose into the kitchen. Daniel was standing with his back to him, knocking some pots and pans around in the sink, whistling a little tuneless ditty. The window over the sink was open. Jack noticed the white curtains there billowing in towards Daniel, rippling in the breeze that was coming in. Daniel had put a mixed bouquet of his roses in a small vase on the windowsill, where they brightened up the spot considerably. 

Jack leaned in the doorway for a moment, hands pushed deep into his pockets, watching Daniel's beautiful six. For the first time in days, he felt a stirring in his groin. He had a stirring in his mind and in his heart, too. He smiled to himself again. Daniel Jackson was an amazing partner. Jack knew there wasn't one part of his whole life that had been left unchanged since they had become lovers. Daniel continued to turn over the rocks of Jack's life, searching for truth, searching for depth, searching for meaning and history. 

"Thanks, Daniel. The rose bushes were a wonderful surprise. You are the best, you know." He kept the tone light.

Daniel stopped what he was doing and placed his hands on the edge of the counter. Jack could see his head come up. Slowly, Daniel turned to face him. Jack knew that he had to be wondering how things had gone in the cemetery. Jack also knew that he better get to sharing about it as best as he could manage, or else they'd have to play twenty questions all night and get nowhere. Better to just talk about it sooner than later with Daniel. And now for the first time, Jack really understood why that was important. 

Daniel looked at him, so serious, his eyes alight with deep love, concern and longing. Jack had barely touched him in a week, and had hardly been civil. And still there was the love, the acceptance, the patience. 

As they gazed at each other across the room, Jack was half relieved and half terrified to find that suddenly he was losing it. From somewhere deep inside his belly, his grief and anger and gratitude and guilt were rising like a huge bubble of lava inside the cone of a volcano. He swallowed, wondering if he could get a grip if he tried hard enough. 

He put a hand on the doorjamb to steady himself, wondering if he was going to go to his knees. His eyes were locked onto Daniel's. He saw Daniel take a hesitant step towards him. Then two. God, the bubble was getting bigger. Jack's eyes widened in terror. Fuck. He had never cried. He had never told Daniel about the anger, the grief, any of it. Fuck.

"Daniel!" Jack's mouth hung open. "Help me!" God. Daniel took the last three steps at a dead run, crashing into Jack, pushing his arms around him under Jack's armpits, holding him up as Jack felt his knees turn to mush. And then the bubble came up his throat, up onto the back of his tongue, and out his mouth. 

Part Seven

He was dimly aware of Daniel holding him up. He made an effort to stiffen his knees a little so he wouldn't slide to the floor. The sob that tore out of him, straight into Daniel's shoulder, was so primal, so unexpected, Jack wasn't even sure it was him. And very quickly, after the smallest of breaths, another one of equal intensity joined it. 

Eight long fucking years. Why now? Jack had no choice. This was like something out of The Exorcist. Deliverance. Open heart surgery without benefit of anesthesia. 

"Daniel!" he pleaded. Jack put his arms around him in the tightest squeeze he could manage. If he didn't hang on, this volcano was going to spew his insides all over the room. "Daniel!" 

A third and then a fourth loud sob followed. Daniel bent his knees a little under Jack's weight, literally supporting him in every way. His strong arms were like a lifeline.

"Jack!" he heard Daniel say as if from a far distance. "That's it, Jack. Let it all out. Good. It's okay. Shhh..."

Jack's sobs gradually lessened to a hard steady crying. His tears soaked Daniel's tee shirt. For a couple of minutes, he cried in noisy gulps, harsh sounding in his own ears. His heart was breaking in two. Charlie. The gun. Charlie. The blood. Charlie. The coffin. Charlie. Sara. Daniel. 

"It's okay, Jack, you just let it all go. It hurts, but you'll be okay. Talk to me, Jack. Lemme hear it. Please."

God bless Daniel. He wanted to hear this shit? Jack couldn't quite talk yet. He was exhausted with the crying. Now the crying was just as hard, but a lot quieter. He was snuffling into Daniel now, rubbing his wet nose on Daniel's shirt. Shit. Snotty, too. 

"Hate this shit, Daniel," he rasped out into his shoulder. He took a big shuddering breath. "Fucking hate this."

"Ssshh," Daniel murmured into his ear. Jack's arms came up around Daniel's shoulders, and they clung to each other. 

Jack couldn't seem to stop crying. Where the hell did all these tears come from anyway? He didn't know one set of eyeballs could make so much moisture in such a short time. Or a nose so much snot. Charlie. Daniel. Fuck.

Daniel just held on and waited for whatever Jack had to do or say next. He could outwait Jack about anything any day of the week, and they both knew it.

"Fuck," Jack started again. He spoke into Daniel's shoulder, overwhelmed with tears at some moments, and then able to speak forcefully at others. "Why'd you go off and leave me last year?" He gasped and snuffled a couple of times. "Why'd you go with Oma? Why didn't you stay?" He pulled back from Daniel a little and slugged him half-heartedly in the chest. "God damn it, Daniel. I was so pissed at you." 

He glared at him, his eyes red rimmed and pouring tears. 

"Is this about me, Jack?" Daniel very wisely asked. He stared into Jack's face and blinked a few times. 

"No, damn you, it's about ME. And I missed you. I was terrified when you went up that ramp and disappeared. I couldn't take care of you anymore. Don't you know I NEED to take care of you? Damn you!"

Oh-oh. There were the tears again. He put his head back into Daniel's shoulder again with an impatient thunk, using the dry side this time. Daniel held him hard. 

"Okay, Jack. I know. I know. But I'm back, and I'm never leaving again. I know now how much you need me. I learned a hard lesson. We both did." He shut up for a minute and listened to Jack sniff into his shoulder. Daniel was about equally wet on both sides now. He patted Jack's back and gave him a little time. Why the hell was Jack bringing up this old news for? He thought they'd been all through this already. 

"And this isn't what you're crying about, so let's hear it," he insisted again. "I'm not letting go of you until you cough it up."

"Shit. Goddamn it. Fuck." Jack was getting more inarticulate, not less. He heard Daniel giggle softly. "Don't laugh at me, goddamn you." He sniffed loudly and wiped his wet face and nose on Daniel deliberately. Fuck. 

Jack clung to him harder. It wasn't funny. Fuck it.

"C'mon, Jack," Daniel murmured to him. Jack could feel Daniel's warm hand tracing little circles on his back.

"It's Charlie, Daniel," he finally wailed into Daniel's neck. "I goddamn let him go today. I told him to take the fuck off and leave me alone. I said it, Daniel. I told him to get away from me. I can't do it anymore. I can't carry him around anymore like a load of bricks. I can't keep him here with..."

Fuck. The weeping started again, harder than ever. 

Daniel was rocking him back and forth a little now, rubbing his back, his cheek against Jack's hair. Jack was nuzzling him as he cried, seeking his comfort, wanting Daniel to make sense of this crazy quilt in a way that only Daniel could. Jack sucked at this stuff, and he knew it. They both knew it.

He spoke softly directly into Jack's ear. "Okay, Jack. You had to do that. You had to let him go. Charlie is okay now. So are you. So am I. Do you forgive yourself? He doesn't blame you. He never did."

Jack opened his mouth and groaned, "Ahhhh...shit." Forgive himself? The counselors had told him to do that, too. And he never had. Shit. 

"Okay, Daniel, IforgivemyselfeventhoughIdon'tfeellikeIdeserveit." The words came out all as one. He pulled back to look at Daniel again, scrubbing impatiently at his face with the back of one hand.

Daniel smiled a little. He took one hand and used his thumb to caress Jack's wet cheek. He gently kissed the other cheek, tasting the salt of Jack's tears there. 

"I've never seen you cry before. Didn't know you could." He cocked his head at Jack, examining him in light of this new revelation.

"Is that good or bad?" Jack asked softly. He sniffed loudly and tried to lighten up a little.

"Good, Jack, it's good. You feel any better?"

"No, I feel like shit. Lukewarm shit." He stepped back from Daniel, forcing Daniel to drop his arms from him, although he kept a hand on his arm like he was afraid he might have to grab him again. Jack looked around the kitchen. Deliverance in a kitchen? Okay. Whatever.

"What's for dinner, Daniel? Smells good. I'm hungry."

He looked at Daniel expectantly with the tiniest of smiles. Daniel smirked at him. It was a start.

Part Eight

Daniel pushed up and off Jack and collapsed on the bed beside him. Jack rolled onto his side and put his hand up on Daniel's cheek. "Missed that, huh?" Daniel nodded at him, his sleepy contented eyes roving over Jack's face. His heart was still thudding in his chest, and he took little short breaths. Wow. That had been good.

"Oh, yeah," Daniel breathed. "But I knew we'd be okay, and that you'd come back to me. I don't think anything in the universe can keep us apart for long any more."

"I'm so sorry for being such a dickhead."

Daniel chuckled deep in his throat. "Well...you have a dick....and a head....but the two don't always agree what they want at the same time."

"Shut up," Jack said to him without conviction. He moved in to grab a kiss. He bit at Daniel's full lips, licking at him gently, totally satiated after their lovemaking. He felt warm and comfortable and free for the first time in what felt like close to forever.

" 'kay, Jack," Daniel said. "Whatever you want. Dickhead." He was smirking again.

"Doctor Psychotherapist Know-It-All."

"Colonel Gonna Need to Buy Stock in Kimberly-Clark Now." Daniel kissed him again.

"Best friend I ever had." Jack pulled back to smile into his face.

"Best one I ever had too. Not to mention the best lay I ever had."

"Um, hm, you got that right," Jack agreed. No argument there.

"Jack?" Daniel put his arms around him and drew Jack's head over onto his shoulder. "You gonna cry ever again? If you need to, I mean?" He rubbed his chin in Jack's hair.

"I thought that was awful today, Daniel," Jack mumbled into his chest. "Why would anyone want to go through that on purpose?" It was a mystery to Jack. He'd been there; he'd seen it happen to him. And he did feel better. But all those tears, all that snot, all that...that...vulnerability. Shit.

" 'Cause it helps, that's why. You'll see. And I want you to remember that you can always come to me. Say anything. Be real with me, Jack. I need that. And you do, too."

Jack was silent. He worried his lower lip a bit, thinking about it. He nuzzled Daniel's sweet neck, rubbing his nose back and forth on the soft skin. He could feel just the beginnings of a fine stubble there. He felt his cock stir again. 

"Think I want to fuck you soon, Danny," he announced in a matter of fact tone. His arms went around Daniel, and he sank his teeth in his neck.

"Jack! Ow! God, you're a love machine. Stop changing the subject!" Jack heard a low rumble of laughter in Daniel's chest. "Promise me!"

"What, Danny? Don't wanna talk anymore. Want you to..." He licked at Daniel's collarbone, his hands wandering all around Daniel's body, wherever he could reach. 

Daniel took him by the shoulders and pushed him away from where Jack had been gnawing on his neck. He looked into his face. "Promise me you will make me a member of your family. Promise me forever. Promise me that I'll belong to you from now on. No one else, Jack." 

Jack gave him a quizzical look. "Family?"

Daniel nodded. "Yup. Don't want nothin' less. I wanna be your family. And if you wanna get laid again here in a few minutes, you'd better say yes. Otherwise, I'm outta here." 

Jack could see Daniel smiling as he said those words, but he could also hear the challenge in them. Daniel was sick of sharing Jack with ghosts. No more. 

"I don't know what you want me to say. Do you want me to promise you forever? Okay. Do you want me to promise that you'll never, ever, ever, ever be rid of me? Okay. Do you want me to promise you that you will always have a home with me, wherever I go, until the time that one of us isn't here on this earth anymore? Okay." Jack searched Daniel's eyes. What more could he say? 

Daniel touched Jack's chest, over his heart. "No, Jack. In here. Not just in this house. Not just wherever you are. In here." 

Jack reached out and touched Daniel's chest in the same place. He was silent for a moment. Maybe this crying thing wasn't going to be a thing of the past. He swallowed.

"I love you, Daniel Jackson. You are so big in my heart, I don't think there's room for anything else. And I want to be in here, too." He patted Daniel's chest for emphasis. 

Daniel smiled his sweetest Danny smile, making Jack's heart turn over. 

"You are about to get lucky, Jack."

~finis

The Rose  
Some say love, it is a river  
That drowns the tender reed.  
Some say love, it is a razor  
That leaves your soul to bleed.  
Some say love, it is a hunger,  
An endless aching need.  
I say love, it is a flower,  
And you, its only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking.  
That never learns to dance.  
It's the dream afraid of waking  
That never takes the chance.  
It's the one who won't be taken,  
Who cannot seem to give,  
And the soul afraid of dyin'  
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely  
And the road has been too long,  
And you think that love is only  
For the lucky and the strong,  
Just remember in the winter  
Far beneath the bitter snows  
Lies the seed that with the sun's love,  
In the spring becomes the rose.Ê

Bette Midler


End file.
